


Fantastic Beasts and How to Annoy Percival Graves...

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Pining, Newt is a Dork, Newt loves his creatures, Obscurial Credence Barebone, Post-Movie(s), Protective Original Percival Graves, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Swearing, credence is everyone's precious child, credence meets a thestral, includes senator shaw or whatever, only crewt if you squint, same for newt x graves, skipping boring subplots, thats all this was supposed to be but oops, tina and graves brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9194033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Percival Graves is bowled over by a man on the front steps of the bank and he's certain that he's up to no good.so he follows him, and winds up with an adventure.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yo this is literally all this gifsets fault oops.  
> http://tsaritsaofstory.tumblr.com/post/155162300920/  
> and last night in my benedryl induced coma i wanted credence to meet and pet a thestral. so here you go.

Tina Goldstein was very smart, resourceful and sometimes a bit too clever for her own good. At least, that was Percival Graves’ opinion of her. He respected her greatly, and didn’t resent her for speeding past him in training and securing the position of Director of Magical Security while he was left to perform a position merely created for him by her and the President.

Not at all. No resentment.

He was still Lead Investigator of Magical Security. He was a high level Auror, but just not quite what he wanted, what he knew he could do.

They’d barely passed each other in school, like ships in the night, and so, it was quite remarkable despite all that, how fast they fell into an easy work friendship, and everyone around them, including Tina’s somewhat ditzy little sister, couldn’t understand why though they constantly insulted each other, they never parted without a smile.

At least, until the day Percival encountered the Second Salemers, preaching on MACUSA’s front steps.

He’d noticed a crowd of No-Maj’s forming outside, and had merely slipped out to investigate, as he did, and ensure the peace was kept. The building had a front and an illusion inside, so if any No-Maj did wander in, they would instantly remember somewhere else they were needed to be, and leave in a bit of a hurry. It was genius, and Percival along with Tina, and one other Auror, Abernathy, a bit of a twerp and ass kisser, in his opinion, helped create the design.

The No-Maj’s barely seemed to notice the building at all, much less when he slipped out the side door and moved around to join the crowd, in the back, eying everyone to see if he could spot any pesky potential threats.

There was a woman standing tall, above the crowd, holding out a book and occasionally shaking it for emphasis. A No-Maj holy book, he guessed. When she finally shut up, three, by the looks of them, scruffily dressed orphans started mingling with the people, holding out leaflets and murmuring what had to be memorized lines of propaganda along with invitations to their upcoming meeting.

Percival remained completely still, back pressed along the stone wall beside the steps, and waited to see which of the Salemers would approach him.

To his surprise, it was the eldest child, the only boy he spotted, and he seemed perpetually hunched over, as if in pain from his back, he barely glanced up at Percival before shakily extending a hand, while the majority of his other leaflets were clutched in his other.

“Sir, would you be interested in attending our next meeting? We meet at the church across from the Woolsworth building on-“

Percival accidentally interrupted him when he reached out to accept the leaflet, and caught the boy’s fingers with his own.

They were freezing cold, and he wondered if the threadbare clothing he had on offered any warmth whatsoever.

Though the boy tried to free his hand at once, acting as if Percival’s normal temperature skin had burned him, his eyes widened, and he glanced up at him from under his hat.

“Sir…”

Percival’s eyes darted down, and he could just make out the silvery pink mark of an unnatural scar leading up the boy’s wrist, before he yanked it back and tucked his hand into his jacket.

“Yes, I mean, that is, I’ll try to make it. Thank you.”

Percival backed away, and couldn’t help seeing out of the corner of his eye that the boy watched him the whole way, even continuing to stare after he’d returned inside MACUSA.

Now that was interesting…

*

His first stop was Tina’s office, and it had now been nearly a week of reconnaissance, so he knew she would appreciate his diligence before rushing to see her.

“Tina, do you have a moment?”

He paused outside her office door, fighting every instinct to just walk in, though he knew she had wards to prevent such interruptions from lower staff, like Abernathy, he hoped.

She looked up from her desk, which he knew even from so far away, was scattered with various international newspaper clippings and sightings of Grindelwald. He was an ever present threat, and Percival was almost afraid she might not even care what he had to say about such a minor…non-issue.

“Yes Graves? What is it?”

“It’s those Second Salemers, the ones who crowded our front door last week? I’ve been trailing them around the city, and I’ve discovered that one of the orphans maybe be a squib, or even an unregistered half-blood. The youngest is still eligible for a letter. So while their mother beats them and forces them to do her bidding, she may just be stirring up anti-wizarding sentiment while harboring one herself.”

Tina looked rather pained,

“Graves, it’s really not a good idea to obsess over things like these. You can’t save everyone. No-Maj business is none of ours. Please, stop following them. Unless they present a real threat to the Statute of Secrecy, there’s nothing we can do.”

Percival blinked down at her, stunned.

“So you don’t care that at this horrible woman’s hand, these children are suffering? One or more of them could be magical? Doesn’t that concern you? You know what that sort of thing leads to…”

Tina’s eyes widened, and her mouth tightened into a flat line.

“I know what you’re suggesting, and it’s patently untrue. There hasn’t been an Obscurial in America in decades. Almost a century. There would be clear signs, clear events of destruction, to indicate such a thing.”

Percival sighed, and shook his head,

“I’m sorry Tina, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking… coming to _you_ for help and advice. If you had seen the boy’s scars… you would want to do something. You’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”

His anger had gotten the better of him, and he turned to leave, before he said anything so stupid she threatened to demote or fire him. He ignored her when she called after him, and nearly ran into the blonde Goldstein carrying a coffee tray.

“Oh golly, I’m sorry Mister Graves, pardon me.”

She glanced down, as if afraid to make eye contact, and he shook his head,

“Is your sister always this stubborn?”

She looked up at him, finally, blue eyes flashing with something like amusement,

“Mister Graves, you have no idea.”

Her lips quirked towards a smile, but then it just slid off her face, and she was walking hurriedly away.

Strange one that girl, he couldn’t help thinking to himself.

*

“Teenie… I need to ask you something.”

Tina looked over at her sister with annoyance,

“I asked you not to call me that when we’re at work… why you can’t you do this _one_ thing?”

Queenie was biting her lip, before she nodded,

“Okay sorry sis. Look, Mister Graves is really upset, I think you musta been pretty mean to him to do that. He’s a tough cookie, like you.”

Tina rolled her eyes,

“Mister Graves can handle his own problems; I’m not here to hold his hand.”

Queenie’s eyes widened,

“But you would?”

“Shut up.”

Queenie bit back a giggle,

“Look, that’s not what I’m talking about, workplace crushes happen all the time. Look at Abernathy. He jumps around with his mooning so often it makes _my_ head spin. I can’t wait to see who he picks next after me.”

Tina didn’t look particularly interested, and Queenie supposed it was likely because she was remembering back to the miserable months when _she’d_ been his center of attention.

Flowers, accidental meetings in the elevator and then unnecessary compliments and invitations to lunch or dinner… for work of course.

“What do you want Queenie?”

“Mister Graves really needs your help about those Second Salemers. There’s one in particular he’s worried about. He thinks the No-Maj boy might have magical ancestry, he swears he saw him enter the building, through the charm. The whole _notice me not_ on the building, and how even the strongest willed ones who still come in can’t resist leaving… and yet… he wondered if the boy would follow him!”

Tina sighed, and pressed a hand to her temples, elbows on her desk,

“Queenie. Besides being horribly rude and reading his mind… you literally just confirmed that he _is_ obsessed with them. He needs to stop. If he doesn’t, I will have to speak to him. Please keep an ear out. I know you will anyway. Let me know if he contacts them again.”

The blonde looked rather ill, and she pressed her lips together, but it was too late. She’d interfered, and she was involved now.

“Okay. See you at dinner.”

“Yeah. I’ll probably be late, as usual.”

“Right.”

Queenie left as fast as she could without running, and still collided with Abernathy around a corner.

“Miss Goldstein, oh my, it’s lovely to see you today. You’re looking well; did you do something with your hair?”

Queenie sighed,

“No honey it’s always been curly. Scuse me I’m kinda late for a meeting.”

It was a lie. She was just going to haunt the outside hall of Mister Graves office, and see what else she could find, to help _him_ , not her sister.

*

The next day when Percival came in to work, he felt a bit sick to his stomach, and meeting Abernathy in the elevator did nothing for his nerves.

“Are you all right sir? You don’t look so well…”

Percival glanced over at the shorter man with a pronounced glare,

“Shut up and fuck off.”

He saw the man gulp and duck his head, nodding.

Percival reached his office in record time, and sat down to flip through the latest reports to come across his desk. Loads of bullshit that anyone could handle. Tina was punishing him.

He thought about calling for Abernathy, but he suspected the man was off somewhere crying, and wouldn’t really be any use.

The day crawled by, and when it was time for lunch, Percival nearly leapt out of his chair, and without really trying, found himself chasing after a growing crowd of No-Maj’s in front of a bank. It was a wizarding bank and a No-Maj bank, thanks to some excellent charm work.

It had been in business long before he’d come to MACUSA, and the amount of food carts littering around it were a clever racket. Even bankers had to eat after all.

He purchased a hot dog for himself, extra mustard, and then casually walked over to the main attraction, the anti-witch bitch at it again, that day with one of her poor adopted orphan minions holding up a fairly colorful sign, depicting two large hands snapping a wand in half. A forceful metaphor, he supposed.

He’d just spotted the boy, hunched down shoulders of course and no hat that day, off to the side, silently handing out flyers to any interested or just bored of listening No-Majs. His cheeks looked hollow, as if he was starved as well as beaten, and the line of his bangs on his forehead was uneven. Percival felt a flare of protectiveness well up inside of him, and he only just remembered Tina’s words to remind himself to stop, to not interfere.

Before Percival could take a proper bite of his lunch, someone jostled right past him.

“Excuse me sir.”

A man with messy red hair and a blue wool coat stepped in front of him, an overlarge suitcase almost knocking into his knee on the way by.

“Ouch.”

Percival commented, merely annoyed and not actually hurt, but the man didn’t even seem to hear. He was clearly in pursuit of something.

The touch of an accent to his voice had Percival paying closer attention as the man glided through the crowd and continued into the bank, unaware of anyone around him.

Percival sighed, and vanished his hot dog for later with a snap of his fingers, before following after the man.

He was certainly up to something, and definitely a wizard.

Percival had put a mild _notice-me-not_ charm around himself when he’d gotten closer to the crowd, not wanting the boy to see him and potentially recognize him. He was nothing if not practical, though he knew Tina would never admit it to his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> queenie aka the best damn plot device ever. i kid of course but she's damn helpful. forreal.

Tracking the wizard through the bank had turned into a merry chase, the second he caught up to the man with the case outside the bank, where he’d apparated with the rather plump looking No-Maj he’d seemingly roped into his mischief, with an identical looking suitcase, he ran over to them, flicking his fingers at the No-Maj to obliviate the last few minutes from his memory, and then he yanked the arm of the blue coated man, and disapparated them both.

“Sorry, who are you?”

The ginger man was asking, not quite shrinking away from Percival or meeting his eyes, and putting on a slight smile, not quite friendly and not quite a grimace.

Percival pulled his badge out from his inside jacket pocket with a quick wordless summoning spell, and flicked it open,

“MACUSA, Percival Graves, Lead Investigator. You just caused a disturbance in the No-Maj banking sector. What were you thinking? You’re lucky I was here.”

The ginger ducked his head, and a slight dusting of pink welled in his cheeks,

“Oh. You’re one of _those_. I see. Well Mister Graves, I’m not usually one to cause trouble, I was only trying to catch, well, it was my niffler you see, he can’t resist shiny things, and he’s incorrigible.”

Percival blinked,

“What sort of nonsense are you carrying around my city, unregistered and without a wand permit?”

The man gulped,

“How do you know about that?”

Percival smirked, knowing he had him,

“You just told me. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take you in, Mister--?”

“Oh my. What a terrible start to this trip… Newt. Scamander.”

Percival nodded,

“Yes well, sometimes these things do happen.”

He’d not yet let go of the man, Newt’s arm, so he apparated them both to outside MACUSA’s front doors, and couldn’t help asking,

“Why _are_ you in New York anyway?”

Newt, as it appeared, tended to ramble, and about the worst sorts of things. Illegal things he shouldn’t be talking about so casually around a head Auror.

“I’m here to find a present for someone, an Appaloosa Puffskein, the only breeder I know of lives here.”

Percival rolled his eyes,

“Clearly you’re a bit behind. We shut him down a month ago. You really could not have chosen a worse time to come and set a creature loose in the city. Anti-Wizarding sentiment couldn’t be higher. If I hadn’t been there to contain this, it could have become a situation requiring a team of Aurors to obliviate that whole crowd and building full of No-Majs.”

Newt looked somewhat horrified,

“Anti-Wizarding sentiment? Merlin’s beard… Of course there is here…No-Maj? What’s that?”

“Non wizard? No magic? Regular human beings?”

Percival continued to guide the man down the stairs to the wand permit office, and he could only hope Abernathy had forgiven him for his earlier outburst and was prepared to kiss ass again.

“Oh. We just call them muggles.”

“Yeah of course. You brits are ridiculous.”

Newt sounded more than a bit offended,

“Excuse me? We’re not the ones with such draconian laws about Muggles. You Americans won’t even befriend them, much less talk to them? Don’t even get me started on the segregation laws that you still uphold…”

Percival secretly agreed with him, and never more so than within the last week, but now was not the time for his personal opinions to clash with his work.

“Abernathy! Get out here. I need you to process this foreign gentleman, get him a wand permit…”

“I actually applied over three months ago, but never heard back.”

Newt piped up, and Percival glanced over at him,

“We’ve had a bit of a full plate recently, your German Dark Wizard has been wreaking havoc all over the world, or hadn’t you noticed?”

“ _My_ what? I must say Mister Graves, you’re a bit of a… America first sort aren’t you?”

Abernathy interrupted before Percival could deny or confirm the insult.

“Here you go Mister Graves… anything else I can do for you sir?”

Percival barely spared Abernathy a glance, plucking the folded permit from his hands, and passing it over to Newt.

“There. At least you’re somewhat legal now. I still need to file a report about your loose creature. Come along.”

He made a bee line for his office, and flipped through his papers until he could find a blank sheet, and quickly penned a missive and memo to Tina, explaining why he’d been so late coming back from lunch.

Her reply was almost immediate, and she was summoning him to her office.

“God damnit.”

He glanced over at Newt, and tightened his jaw.

“You stay here. Don’t try to leave, or I will know.”

The man with his case was just sitting stiffly in one of Percival’s extra chairs, poised to open his case and presumably check on the previously escaped creature,

“Oh. Yes. Of course. “

Instead of wasting time on the elevator, Percival stepped outside his office and apparated to Tina’s floor walking straight into her office.

“Yes Director Goldstein?”

She didn’t look amused.

“Did you disobey my direct order Graves?”

He frowned,

“What gave you that idea?”

She blinked over at him, perched behind her desk in her chair like it was a throne.

A giggle sounded from behind him and he spun around to see the blonde, Queenie, eying him with a smirk.

“She did.”

Percival sighed,

“Who gave you permission to spy on me?”

“Why is there a tourist inside your office? And where did you find him? Lurking around the Second Salemers again… isn’t that right?”

Percival pinned Tina with a glare,

“Frankly it doesn’t matter where I found him. He let some wild animal loose inside the bank, and I had to stop it before it got out of hand. Yes, the Second Salemers were there too, but that wasn’t a planned meeting. I was… watching the foreigner.”

“You’re lying.”

Queenie said, voice low, almost a whisper.

Tina cocked a brow at him,

“Thank you for stopping what could have been an international incident. However, you did it simultaneously as you threatened to interfere with a No-Maj.”

Percival felt his jaw tighten. She really pissed him off when she got that way, stick in the mud, and probably up her ass too.

He ignored Queenie’s gasp,

“Tina, you’re such a bitch sometimes. We need to help them. Those children are… you should see the way those children act. As if any wrong move will get them a slap, or worse, a whip across a hand or their back.”

Queenie clapped a hand to her mouth, clearly flipping through his memories and seeing for herself.

Tina shook her head,

“And you’re an asshole who won’t listen. We _can’t_ get involved. You know better than this. Your department and mine focus on the betterment of _our_ society. Not theirs.”

Percival was really annoyed now,

“You know what you sound like?”

Queenie’s hand and jaw dropped at once, and she glanced at Tina before Percival could continue,

“Just like one of Grindelwald’s fanatics. It’s us versus them, isn’t that right?

Tina looked as if he’d slapped her, and maybe he’d gone a little too far. Calling her a bitch was an everyday occurrence, if not out loud than in his head, and surely Queenie filled her in on that.

Usually she could give as well as she got, but there probably was no good reply to that.

He braced himself for her reaction, anger or deadly calm, and instead got a simple,

“This conversation is over. Get back to work Graves.”

Queenie tried to give him a sympathetic smile over Tina’s shoulder, but he wasn’t looking for that.

Walking away, he nearly ran into a slim body.

It wasn’t Abernathy, for once; it was the brit, Newt.

“What now? I told you to stay put.”

His annoyance was more at his office wards failing than the man himself, but Newt looked remarkably frazzled, and Percival glanced down to see a white knuckled grip on the suitcase.

“This isn’t mine.”

Percival blinked,

“What.”

“I think the No-Maj from the bank accidentally picked mine up, and I got his. This case is full of pastries… which mine most definitely was not.”

Percival felt a sudden headache bloom to life at his temples, and he squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment.

“Fuck.”

*

It was unfortunately rather easy to find the No-Maj’s apartment. If only due to the trail of destruction that was quite visible, to wizards and No-Maj alike.

Percival had to be very calm, and still and simply performed a few distraction charms, as he helped Newt repair the demolished building, only just enough to keep it from being too suspicious.

“What. The. Fuck. Else. Was in that case Mister Scamander?”

“Just a couple things.”

Percival walked across the room to grab the case himself, but Newt beat him to it, and there was an otherworldly shriek from _something_ which jumped at him, and would have bitten him, most likely, if he hadn’t thrown up a wordless shield charm in the nick of time.

“Oh no.”

“What is _that_?”

The creature was light pink in color, with multiple flailing tentacle sorts of appendages on its back, and a face like a No-Maj pet, a hairless dog maybe.

“It’s just my Murtlap. He must have got out when the case was opened by uh, him.”

Percival looked around the edge of the bureau to find an unconscious man. The plump No-Maj from the bank.

“It was opened then?”

“Just a smidge.”

Ignoring Newt seemed like the best thing for his flaring temper and raging headache at the moment, so Percival instead focused on the man, kneeling down to check his pulse to ensure he was indeed out and not dead, and he noticed a bleeding wound in his neck.

“He’s been hurt.”

Newt sighed.

“Murtlap bites aren’t serious… if he was really hurt, there would be flames coming out of his anus.”

There were about to be flames _covering_ the British wizard if he didn’t start talking, Percival thought.

“Well? How do you propose to fix this? I don’t know what No-Maj doctors would do, how they’ll react to him. He _needs_ medical attention before he can be properly oblivated again.”

Newt gulped.

“That probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I have just the thing inside my case. Remedies for any bite. I get a lot of them in my encounters.”

Percival set his jaw,

“Serves you right. Why are you carrying around such a menagerie anyway? To what end? Chaos has already been achieved. What’s next?”

The least Newt had the decency to do was look embarrassed, and he dropped his eyes from Percival to stare at the No-Maj’s feet.

“I’m writing a field guide.”

“You mean like an extermination guide?”

Newt shook his head so fast it threatened to make Percival laugh,

“Of course not. These creatures need caring and protection.”

Percival blinked over at the unconscious No-Maj,

“Seems like they can look after themselves quite well.”

“Self defense is quite different from all out attacks. You should know that, as an Auror.”

Percival took offense to that, no matter if the ginger was right.

“Come on then. Who can we take him to, if not an actual doctor?”

Newt sighed,

“I don’t suppose you know anyone who is particularly skilled at Legilimency? I can’t possible begin to know what his symptoms are before he wakes up, and I’ve never been too good at that. Muggles have slightly different physiologies than wizards.”

Percival bit back a groan of annoyance. Of course.

“Luckily for you, I do.”

*

Queenie wasn’t just a skilled Legilimens, she was a natural born one, and Newt went into quite the tizzy when Percival introduced them, before he cleared his throat, and tried to guide the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Oh no. He’s exhausted, no wonder he conked out. He’s had a rough day.”

Queenie practically cooed, and Percival wondered why it was that more twits like Abernathy weren’t falling over themselves for her. She looked over at him and winked, and he instantly realized his mistake.

“I’ll say. Attacked by wild animals where he was expecting to find sweet baked goods.”

Percival eyed Newt, trying to distract from his temporary lapse in mental vigilance against Queenie, and got a bashful nod in return.

“I know. It was completely my fault. I wasn’t paying attention when I grabbed my case. Officially, I’m missing two other creatures.”

Queenie gasped, and Percival supposed she’d just looked and seen what they were.

“Well?”

He asked, pointedly not looking at Newt, preferring Queenie’s direct answer.

It was a stroke of luck he’d come to her apartment, well, the Goldsteins’ apartment, and Tina hadn’t been around. Outside of work or not, he knew he was looking at some serious trouble for what he’d gotten himself into.

“One of them looks like a strange sort of rhinoceros and the other thing is…” She glanced at Newt before meeting Percival’s gaze, in a low whisper, “Invisible.”

Newt huffed,

“Oh that’ll be Dougal, my demiguise.”

“I’m sorry, what? How did find something and catch it the first time if it was invisible?”

Newt smiled, suddenly sunny,

“It’s very difficult mind you, but there’s more than one thing in the world that’s invisible, but not forever.”

Percival frowned,

“What are you talking about?”

Queenie answered instead,

“Oh golly. A thestral? I thought those were just a myth… a scary bedtime story for kids?”

Newt shook his head fervently, and Percival could see, finally, that the man did truly mean it, he cared about his creatures, no matter the trouble they caused.

It was rather admirable, if he wasn’t so much goddamn trouble.

“They’re very real. But you’re right, they can appear uh, disconcerting, if you can see them. Not everyone can. I can’t, but he came to me, when I was last in Russia. I cut myself rather badly and sort of stumbled to the ground. I woke up to something licking at my arm, apparently drawn to me because of my blood. Yet, they didn’t harm me, and when I reached out to try and see what it was, my wand illuminated nothingness, but I could feel it, like a skeleton of a horse. They’re fascinating creatures, and he followed me into my case, where I took care of the wound and offered him a piece of raw meat, which vanished from my hand as he ate it.”

Queenie was gaping at him,

“How were you not scared?”

Newt smiled again,

“Thestrals are very gentle, if you mean them no harm. They’ve an incredible sense of direction, and fly faster than taking a broom, and it’s safer to ride one rather than apparate long distances. I haven’t used him to travel, as I was rather unsure if it would be cold as high as I would need to be to avoid being spotted. So I took the boat.”

Percival let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He’d been the witness to many deaths in his line of work, and he knew the rumors about thestrals. How one could only see them if someone had died in front of them.

Of course Newt couldn’t see them.

“Wait… Scamander… You’re a Scamander. Thesus is your brother, is he not? He wrote to me not too long ago. Wished us luck in our search for Grindelwald. Odd of the fellow if you ask me.”

Newt glanced over at him, nodding,

“Yes. My war-hero brother. He’s always been a bit reckless and strange in my opinion.”

It was Queenie who giggled,

“You, who catch and carry wild creatures around in a suitcase, think your brother is _reckless_?”

“Not to mention illegally enter a country without a confirmed wand permit?”

Percival added.

Before Newt could reply, whether to argue or defend himself, the No-Maj splayed out on the Goldstein’s couch began to stir, and Queenie instantly ran over to him.

“Shhh, now its okay, don’t worry…”

She trailed off, and smiled sweetly down at him, and Percival could only imagine what was running through the man’s head at the sight of such a pretty face.

“No honey, you aren’t dead, though you sure know how to flatter a dame. You want something to eat? I can make almost anything.”

When Queenie returned to the kitchen, Percival sidled over to her,

“Can I trust you to keep an eye on him, while I escort Mister Scamander around the city, to attempt to find his missing beasts?”

Queenie nodded, trying to put on an innocent look he wasn’t buying for a second,

“Of course Mister Graves. I’ll just tell Tina I met him leaving work today. He’s got… um, full moon fever.”

Percival sighed,

“Your sister isn’t _that_ gullible.”

“For me she is. You’d be amazed what I’ve got on her. She won’t turn me in. We’re family. Scoot, both of you. I’m only making enough for two.”

She winked at him and turned back to the stove, wand twirling as she worked.

He didn’t say it as much as think at her, _don’t get attached._

Not that he could really say that at all, considering his own feelings towards the poor children, well, one in particular, of the Second Salemers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall know its about to get gradence-y up in here


	3. Chapter 3

Newt seemed quite certain that Central Park was the best bet to find his ‘medium sized’ Erumpent, to which Percival could only pray he had enough headache potion when he got home that night to get rid of the one currently threatening to blind him.

“Go on then. Meet me back at this corner in an hour.”

“Where are you going?”

Percival merely glared at him,

“I’ve got my own business to attend to.”

The red head nodded, and then took off towards the park, which Percival had needed to guide him to in the first place, being the tourist he was.

Percival was hoping to snag a moment of alone time and actually finish his lunch. Queenie’s little jab at him had only reminded him that he’d not eaten all day, except for about one bite he’d gotten before almost being walked into by Mister Scamander in the first place.

The streets were fairly quiet and the sky dark enough, so a hint of wandless magic wouldn’t cause any undue trouble, he hoped.

After first looking around both ways, he then snapped his fingers and summoned back the hot dog, charming it slightly to reheat it, and blissfully dug in.

He couldn’t help walking as he ate, his feet always reluctant to stand still when outside his office, he supposed, and as he was passing a darkened alleyway, he heard something.

A muffled sob.

Immediately on guard, Percival gulped down the rest of the bun, barely a bite left, and drew his wand, casting a shielding charm and then lighting the tip, illuminating the alley to find a few scattered papers, downed trash cans, and at the very end of the side street, a crumpled body.

They weren’t dead, as was obvious from the strangled noises they made, while relieving as that might have been, as Percival crept closer, he felt his stomach twist, threatening to dislodge his recently devoured dinner.

It was the boy.

He hadn’t noticed it until that moment, but there was a small trail of blood, smeared drops of crimson on the papers, and on the street leading right to him.

The boy was huddled against the alley wall, hands quivering against his chest, no doubt the source of his agony.

“Hey… don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

Percival knelt down, trying to make himself smaller, less of a threat, and he dimmed his wand light, before flicking it up so the glowing sphere hovered above them, and he was free to reach out to the boy.

“Help me.”

The words were a shuddering gasp, and Percival could see the shine of the boy’s cheeks, wet with tears.

“Yes. Anything.”

Taking the boy’s hand in his own, he turned it over to reveal the palms, slick with blood and uneven cuts. He didn’t even want to think about what had caused such an injury, all he wanted to do was take away the pain, and heal the broken skin.

He murmured low under his breath, and the boy fell silent, eyes wide and locked onto his own hand, as the blood siphoned away, and pale pink skin was revealed, no longer a scratch or blemish to be seen.

It was very dangerous what he was doing, Percival knew it. But Tina was not around, and she didn’t need to know.

He couldn’t have just walked away. He couldn’t remain an uninvolved observer, any more.

“Will, will you fix the other one?”

The boy was asking, a hushed whisper, filled with awe, as he looked up from his one hand to meet Percival’s worried stare.

“Yes. If you tell me your name.”

He smiled, just a bit, so the boy would know he was teasing, desperate for some levity to be brought to the whole mess of a situation, and the boy nodded,

“I’m sorry I’ve been so rude sir. I’m Credence. I remember you… from the meeting. You said you’d come back, but I never saw you again.”

His eyes, still a bit glassy with abating tears dipped to the ground, and Percival sighed, reaching to take the boy’s other hand, performing the same spells.

“I know. Unfortunately, I was unable to keep my promise. I apologize for that. I’m a man of my word… most days.”

Without the pain to distract him, or the fear of a stranger, Credence seemed to become almost a different person as Percival helped him to his feet.

“That, that’s all right, I understand. You seem very, important.”

Percival smiled,

“I suppose you might be right about that. But that’s no excuse for my impoliteness. Would you like me to walk you home?”

Credence suddenly shook his head, eyes widening with what was unmistakable fear,

“No sir, no thank you. I can’t… I won’t go back there. I just… this…”

He trailed off, and Percival knew it was prying of him to ask, but he had to know,

“Did your mother do this to you?”

Credence just nodded, remaining silent for the moment, wringing his new and healed hands together in front of his chest.

“Does she always hurt you?”

Another nod.

The scars he’d seen on the boy’s wrists. She must have caused them too.

“Does she do this to anyone else?”

A shrug.

Sometimes, was what the boy wasn’t saying.

“If your sisters, they are your sisters right?” There was a nod. “If they’re in danger, I know of someplace you can go, you can take them away from her.”

No-Maj’s might have been a lot of things, but one important trait they shared with wizarding kind was resilience, and occasionally, compassion.

“Credence,” at the boy’s name on his lips, he looked up, and Percival lost his train of thought for a moment, as he looked, truly looked at the boy, standing tall, no longer hunching over in pain, and he decided the danger was quickly going both ways.

“Do you know what I am? What I think you might be too?”

He was still loosely holding his wand in his left hand and Credence’s eyes immediately locked onto it,

“A witch.”

He spoke softly, so quiet if Percival hadn’t been a handful of inches away, he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Not quite. But yes. If you don’t want to go home… would you allow me to take you somewhere? There’s someone who could be very helpful, to determining if you are… as special as I suspect.”

Credence’s blink and nod, with a hint of a shy smile was more than enough.

“Excellent.”

Queenie was being all sorts of helpful to him, and he wasn’t sure how he would repay her.

“Mister Graves!”

Percival spun around to find Newt positively running, a bit out of breath and shiny with sweat, both arms wrapped tight around his case, right for him.

“Did you catch it?”

Newt was nodding vehemently, and stopped short at the sight of Credence.

“Who’s this?”

Percival smiled tightly, and threw Credence a glance of reassurance, he hoped.

“With Miss Goldstein’s help, he just might become one of us.”

Newt beamed,

“That’s wonderful. A late found wizard still has considerable potential. How old are you?”

He looked at the boy as if studying him, and Percival supposed, in a way, he was.

“Twenty, sir.”

“Oh goodness me, none of that. I’m just Newt.”

He let go of his case long enough to stick a gangly arm out towards the boy, wiggling his fingers, as if trying to attract a fish with a lure, and Credence took it, tentative, before shaking it once.

“Well, if we’re all done being introduced, let’s move along. Any luck finding your invisible creature?”

Percival brought a hand to the boy’s shoulder to guide him along the sidewalk with himself and Newt, who started babbling on about how he suspected Dougal would go for the finer things, and what was the most expensive department store in town, Credence didn’t quite look intrigued so much as overwhelmed.

He suspected the boy had never even thought to do anything as instantly problem solving as to just run away, from his adopted home, but perhaps was starting to regret it, somewhat.

When Percival had directed Newt to the Saks on Fifth Avenue, he turned to the boy, his hand tightening on Credence’s shoulder,

“You know that you’re over legal age. I must ask you, why did you stay there, so long, if _she_ did this, mostly to you?”

Prying seemed to be second nature, and it was technically usually his job, so Percival only winced slightly as he saw the boy’s gaze skitter away from his, throat bobbing as he gulped and seemed to struggle to find the words.

“I was afraid. I thought no one want to help me. Or that she would start taking out her anger on Modesty… she’s the youngest.”

Percival dimly remembered the two girls, one with a pinched sort of expression and cold eyes, the other with dishwater blond hair and a very innocent looking face.

The youngest could easily still get into Ilvermorny, if indeed they all had magic in their blood, but as for Credence… he wasn’t sure.

Was he leading the boy into more disappointment?

Before he could say anything, a massive crash sounded from inside the building, and Percival had to yank on the boy’s arm to pull him out of the way, as large chunk of roofing and brick fell to the sidewalk with enough power to crack the concrete.

“What the fuck is going on?”

He hissed to himself, flicking his wand to repair the damage almost instantly, and praying the range of the _notice-me-not_ charm he’d cast moments before would cover any nosy neighbors.

Luckily, Newt emerged moments later, looking even more stressed and exhausted than before, and Percival bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

It wasn’t nice and wouldn’t set a very good example for Credence by pointing out how all the trouble had been no one’s fault but Newt’s own.

“Got him. He’s a bit, trickier than the others, mainly because he kept predicting what I would do. Had to cause a bit of mayhem to distract him.”

Percival cocked a brow at him, and Newt blushed,

“I see you already fixed it.”

“Naturally. Is that everything now?”

Newt nodded, still flushed and more than a little sweaty,

“Oh yes. Quite. I suppose we should be getting back to your friends place, check on that No-Maj with the bite.”

“Oh, you think?”

Percival sighed, and took Newt’s arm, still holding onto Credence with his other and disapparated them all on the spot.

*

Queenie turned around only to clap a hand to her mouth, muffling a shriek as she saw not two but three people appear in the apartment. Lucky thing she’d keyed them into the wards. The stranger had only gotten through because, well, she didn’t know.

The one she didn’t recognize was a slim figured boy with a hideous bowl cut and a fairly pretty face, while the others were of course Newt and Percival, who was currently helping the boy to his feet, apologizing profusely for the discomfort of the travel.

“Where have you been? Teenie’s in bed! I had to cast a charm to ensure she wouldn’t see Jacob _and_ I had to lock her in her room, all for you. You owe me **BIG TIME** Mister Graves.”

Percival, for his part, managed to look mildly flustered,

“I apologize Queenie. This will all get straightened out soon, I promise. How is… Jacob did you say, how is he feeling?”

Queenie glanced behind them, to the sliding doors that led to the sewing room, or more accurately, temporary guest room for the man.

“He’s asleep. Still kinda feverish. Definitely in need of something.”

Newt nodded,

“Of course yes. Now that I have everyone, I can go start working on that antidote. It’s good that he got something to eat and a fair bit of conversation. The fever should have broken on its own, but it’s probably his biology.”

“I’ll come with you. Frankly, I don’t want you out of my sight.”

Percival pointedly told the ginger, and he nodded.

“If you must.”

“Wait a minute. What’s he doing here?”

Queenie walked over and brushed a bit of dust off of one of Credence’s shoulders, and Percival sighed,

“Ah yes. I need you. For him.”

She read his mind quickly enough, and then was nodding, almost giddy,

“Oh… so he’s that one? Okay. Honey, can you look at me real quick?”

She took one of his hands in hers, and only stared at the scars on his wrists for a moment, before meeting Credence’s curious gaze, and as Percival watched, her expression flashed between concern and horror and back in an instant.

“What is it, what’s wrong?”

Even Newt was interested now, still paused in the doorway to where the No-Maj was sleeping.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

Credence finally asked, breaking the silence Queenie had been prolonging.

“Oh. No honey. Nothing wrong, exactly.”

She glanced to Percival, who was fairly burning with the need to know what she’d seen in his mind.

“We’re gonna need to wake Tina, once you get Jacob taken care of… okay?”

She looked surprisingly nervous for someone who was usually two steps ahead of everyone else, and Percival found himself gravitating towards the boy, putting an arm around his shoulders,

“Okay. Credence, come along. I think it’ll do you some good to get some air.”

Air being in no shortage inside Newt’s case, the man himself led Percival and the boy down the rickety stairs and into what appeared to be a storage room, full of various bottles and antidotes, he supposed.

“Where do you keep the beasts?”

Newt huffed a sigh,

“They aren’t beasts. They’re creatures. My case has lots of compartments.”

“I can see that. Expansion charm? Very impressive. If it wasn’t illegal.”

Credence meanwhile, was fairly hypnotized, staring open mouthed at everything, and they hadn’t even encountered anything living yet.

“I think… yes. Hold this.”

Newt handed Percival a bucket of what looked like smooth acorns without the usual hat sort of caps, and then passed Credence a round bowl with two very bloody steaks inside it.

“Um…”

“Just wait.”

Newt winked at him, and Percival felt a small twinge of something that might have been jealousy flare inside of him as the boy nodded, pale cheeks turning pink.

“Okay follow me, don’t touch anything. I need to check and make sure everyone’s settled before I take this upstairs.”

He held a vial of something bright green and shimmering, and Percival guessed it was the antidote for whatever had bitten the No-Maj.

“What exactly are we supposed to do?”

Percival nodded to the bucket he was holding and Credence’s bowl, which he clutched to his chest so hard it seemed his knuckles were turning white.

“You’re going to go feed the mooncalves, and Credence is going to test a theory of mine.”

Percival didn’t like the idea of the boy wandering off, but he couldn’t help trusting Newt, just a bit. Considering how much he’d accomplished in such a short time, things could hardly get worse.

“All right. Be careful.”

He told the boy, pointedly locking eyes with him, until he saw Credence nod.

“Yes sir.”

Newt was following Percival as he walked towards the charmed full moon he saw, guessing correctly that whatever creatures the ‘calves’ were, would be congregating around it. They were lumped together, all facing it, like flowers to the sun, until they heard someone approaching.

Newt clicked his tongue, and then Percival was being swarmed by long necked and enormous eyed things. They reminded him of a certain type of show dog that No-Maj’s seemed to like, but for the little noises they made, not barks, but burbles, and when he tried to hand out their food, it jumped out of his hand, and they started chirping as they scooped the flying nuts into their eager mouths.

“Okay, well that’s new.”

“I found them when I was in Ireland, atop the mounds of Tara. They’d gotten a bit lost, separated from their main herd, so I adopted them. Their dung is useful for aiding plants growth. Gardening magic that’s completely natural.”

Percival couldn’t help wrinkling his nose, before setting the empty bucket down and walking back slightly,

“Delightful. Now where have you sent Credence off to?”

Newt looked a bit proud of himself,

“He’s feeding the thestral. I’m quite certain he can see it.”

Percival didn’t know why that idea worried him so much, but more than that, he was just a bit concerned for the boy in general.

“Show me.”

*

Credence was in disbelief. All his life he’d been told witches were evil, witches had killed his family, and if given the chance, would do the same to him.

But that all had changed the day he met the well dressed man in the long coat, who had been so kind to him, and so mysterious, he _knew_ that something was different about him.

When the man walked into the building outside of which Credence’s adopted mother had been speaking, he’d been unable to look away. He’d followed the man with his eyes as long as he could, until he truly vanished behind a door, and had slowly worked his way up the steps himself, prepared to see if he could go after him, but the door wouldn’t budge.

Modesty had followed him, to a point, until she’d frowned, and called out to him. He had been right in front of her, and she hadn’t seen him.

Something like magic had been in play there.

He had returned to her side, and she had beamed up at him,

“How many leaflets do you think you’ll hand out today Credence?”

He had smiled, and patted her head,

“Same as you, I should think.”

He blinked, falling out of the memory to focus back on the thing before him. Mister Scamander had called it a creature, but he couldn’t remember the name.

It was like a bat, in that its wings were as delicate and thin as paper, and its body resembled that of a horse, if deathly ill, and far too skinny for its own good.

Credence offered up the bloody steak in the bowl Mister Scamander had given him, and the horse bat creature stepped closer, sniffing intently, before dipping its mouth down and revealing sharp teeth that snatched up the meat at once.

But all Credence could see were the milky white eyes that it possessed, and they were locked on him as well.

“Hello there.” He murmured, only shifting away so he could set the empty bowl down, and when he turned back, the horse bat was nudging at his shoulder, until he lifted a shaky hand to pet its nose, and something like a rumble of thunder rolled through it.

Was that its voice?

“You’re incredible.”

Credence nearly jumped out of his skin, and the creature shied away, as he turned to find the man watching him, pure wonderment on his face.

He couldn’t help flushing at the compliment, though wasn’t sure if it truly was meant for him or the creature.

“How can you see it?”

The man murmured, stepping closer, and Credence shrugged, more than a little confused as to what he meant.

“It’s here. It’s in front of me. Like everything in this place, its magic, isn’t it?”

The man nodded.

“Very powerful magic, to contain these beasts er, beings. And keep them comfortable when the case moves.”

The man glanced towards the horse bat, and it began to move back towards them both, but clearly angled towards Credence.

He stuck out his hand again, slow and steady, and it nuzzled right into his palm, huffing out a breath that made Credence’s jacket blow open.

He’d forgotten to fasten it properly, but luckily, inside Mister Scamander’s case, it wasn’t nearly as cold as the outside air.

“Whenever you’re ready, Newt’s prepared to take us back out.”

The way the man said it sounded like it was a suggestion, but Credence knew people, and words, and it was still an order.

“Okay.”

He was reluctant to say goodbye to the horse bat, but he rather hoped he’d get to see it again.

As he let the man guide him back towards the first room they’d come to, he caught a cold breeze on the back of his neck, and when he turned to look in the direction which it had come, he spotted a tent, the flap just open enough to reveal snow.

“Wait.”

He wasn’t used to being able to ask for things, so when the man paused, and nodded, he walked away from him towards the white flash he’d seen.

Snow in New York City tended to melt before it even hit the sidewalk, and never looked like that. It never piled up enough to play with.

Credence walked, as if in a trance across the small room inside the canvas, and then stopped short when he heard something.

A whisper.

It wasn’t the man’s voice.

It was coming from a bubble in front of him, hovering over the snow; there was something like smoke trapped inside it.

“Hello?”

“Credence! Step away from that.”

He jerked his head over, away from staring at it, and realized it was barely a foot away, and he’d been reaching out to touch it.

Newt looked almost angry, and he repeated his warning, his voice biting a bit, and Credence flinched back and nodded, quickly taking several steps backward, until he ran into what felt like a wall.

“Ooof. Careful there. What is that Mister Scamander?”

It was the man. He brought his hands to brace Credence’s shoulders, and they were warm through the fabric of his jacket and shirt, and so strong, even if he had wanted to move, he suspected he couldn’t.

Newt looked more on edge now,

“It’s an Obscurus.”

“What?”

The man sounded angry too, but Credence was just glad it wasn’t aimed at him.

Curiosity killed the cat.

How many times had he heard that?

He’d almost been very foolish.

But why would Mister Scamander have anything dangerous with all his beautiful creatures?

“I managed to separate it from the host before she died. I only wanted to study it. I almost forgot about it. It’s been here about a year now.”

“You’ve been traveling with _that_? How on earth has it survived, without a host? And why was Credence drawn to it? Does it have power outside of itself? To control, to manipulate?”

The man sounded very concerned, and if it was for him, Credence was almost dizzy with surprise. No one had ever cared about him before.


	4. Chapter 4

“I don’t know why it would… it’s harmless inside there. It would evaporate if that container went away. And it would be very violent. Possibly as strong as a bomb.”

“So it needs to be taken care of properly. You can’t just dump that somewhere.”

Percival didn’t like the look of the thing; it appeared almost angry, black and occasional flashes of white pulsing around inside the protective bubble.

“Why would I? It could be very important to helping understand our own magic. It’s a very powerful parasitical force… the result of a decade of magical repression, I can’t imagine how awful it would be to live like that…”

Newt suddenly glanced at Credence, still somewhat in Percival’s grasp, and then back up to his own eyes.

“You don’t suppose…”

Percival could feel the boy trembling, and he inhaled deeply,

“Credence. Why did you want to go towards it? Was it… calling to you?”

The boy stepped away slightly to turn and look at him,

“It said I was old. What did it mean?”

Percival blinked, and then looked over to Newt, who appeared to be struggling to find the right words to say.

“You’re old… for a child with magic inside of them, to not have manifested it yet.”

“Precisely.”

Credence was slowly starting to smile, and looked less worried,

“I have magic? Inside me?”

Percival fought very hard to keep from reaching out and petting the boy’s hair or face like he wanted to, and simply nodded.

“It’s what I need to discuss with Miss Goldstein, Tina.”

“Indeed. I think there’s some correlation and causation she might need to know.”

Percival shot him a glare, and they finally moved towards the stairs to return to the outside of the case.

Queenie and Tina were waiting for them.

Newt audibly gulped, and Percival tried to force a smile.

“Tina…”

“Mister Graves, you are only still here, and not in the middle of the MACUSA emergency council meeting because my _sister_ insists I listen to you. Tell me, why I should do that, when I see two instances of infractions that you should be fired for. Two different No-Maj’s who you have interfered with. Obviously that case is quite problematic, and magical. Care to explain?”

Queenie wasn’t exactly helping very much, so Percival just tried to ignore her, as usual.

“Tina. First of all, Mister Scamander and his case of… things, were well in hand, until he accidentally got the No-Maj, Jacob, involved. I fixed that, and then it turned out they’d switched cases. So that was another problem to solve. I wasn’t going to bother you with it, because he’s got his permit now, and everything’s under control. You had more important things to worry about, did you not? Clearly you underestimated me, again. Now, Credence here, is _not_ a No-Maj. To the contrary, he’s exactly what I warned you about. Those last few attacks by Grindelwald could be considered child’s play, to what chaos could be wreaked over the city, if you had continued to ignore the problem of that _woman_. Mister Scamander, mind helping me out?”

Newt stepped forward, clearing his throat awkwardly, and then smiling slightly,

“This boy, er, young man here, is the host to an impressive Obscurus. So old, he doesn’t even know about it yet. In fact, uh, Miss Goldstein, Queenie, you could probably do your thing.”

Tina turned to face her sister, preparing to lecture her most likely, but she actually glared right back and got her to shut up.

Percival wondered if that was a look that could be taught.

“Teenie, this sweet boy here is exactly what they’re saying. He’s got black spots in his memory. He doesn’t even know when he’s used his power. He needs our help, not our prejudice.”

Percival sighed, keeping a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and he could see how worried Credence looked.

“It’s all right. If it comes to it, I’ll take care of you. Try to teach you to control it. To wield it, and not let it use you.”

“Those gas main explosions. The subway accident. It wasn’t really the wind, was it? Not acts of _his_ followers, trying to cause trouble.”

Tina finally spoke, and Percival nodded.

“They weren’t random on purpose; they were random, because there was no purpose. No secret plan. Just magic reacting to constant abuse.”

For the first time since he’d known her, Tina’s face softened.

“Percival, if this was so important to you, you should have told me.”

He blinked.

“Are you kidding? I tried. You had your head so far up Picquery’s ass you weren’t willing to listen.”

Queenie was already grabbing her sister’s arm to keep her in place, and the snort he heard he suspected came from Newt.

“Bastard. I should demote you anyway.”

Percival rolled his eyes.

“You’d miss me if you threw me down into the permit office, don’t deny it. Also, I might accidentally hex Abernathy.”

There was a hint of a smile on her face, before Newt was suddenly pushing past him and muttering about the fever.

Oh right.

The other No-Maj.

Merlin’s beard.

*

So in the end, Percival did end up being dragged into the council for a word with the President the next morning, but not by the ear, he followed Tina closely, and Queenie kept an eye on Credence just outside the hall.

“Madam President, we have a very urgent problem to resolve.”

“Does it have anything to do with the Second Salemers? Because they are starting to become less of a pest, and more of a nuisance.”

Percival hummed a bit, trying to avoid the strong urge to say ‘I told you so’ and Tina glared at him.

“No, not quite. We’ve discovered an Obscurus in the city.”

Madam Picquery looked mildly disturbed,

“What are you talking about? There’s no such thing. Not for over a century.”

“Probably since about the first Salemers yeah? Well, surprise. There’s one, and he’s twice the age they normally… make it to.”

Percival wasn’t sure how much Credence was listening, and the last thing he wanted was to make the boy uncomfortable.

“Have they hurt anyone?”

Tina shook her head,

“Not at all. There was some minor property damage, but I mistakenly thought it was due to Grindelwald.”

“Ah. Then I don’t understand why you’re here. If you can find a way to help them contain that power, or maybe they don’t even need you to, then all I want you both concerned about is upholding the statute of secrecy. Got it? We’ve still got lots to do. If Grindelwald is in America, I want him found.”

Tina and Percival exchanged a glance, and he shrugged first.

“Your wish is our command Madam President.”

Tina elbowed him in the side, and he briefly considered a sneezing hex, but Picquery was already waving them out, unfazed.

“I don’t think she believed us.”

Queenie was already hurrying over to them, Credence at her side, as they walked to Tina’s office.

“No kidding. Her mind is a literal circle of the same few thoughts. _‘Protect the statute of secrey, don’t expose us, don’t let war break out, do your job.’_ That’s it.”

Percival winked at her,

“That’s what she wants you to think. I’m sure she’s just got more things to worry about, the International confederacy is threatening to come out, and I doubt she wants other people telling her what to do.”

Tina sighed,

“Oh they’re definitely coming. They sent me a memo the other day. They don’t ask, they just do.”

“Do you think Mister Scamander can get this… thing out of me?”

Credence spoke up so suddenly it made everyone stare at him, including Tina, who seemed thoughtful.

“I don’t know. I suppose, it’s worth asking him?”

Percival blinked,

“Don’t look at me. I barely know the guy.”

Queenie giggled,

“You ran around the city chasing his creatures with him, so I think that you know that’s a lie.”

“You certainly know him better than I do. I doubt he’d listen to me anyway. Go on. I know he’s waiting inside your office.”

Tina nodded her head and Percival sighed, beckoning Credence towards him, away from Queenie, and he looked somewhat apprehensive,

“Is it going to hurt?”

He asked, once they were on the elevator towards Percival’s floor, and he grimaced.

“I don’t know if he can even do it. I don’t know.”

If there was one thing Percival hated, it was that. The unknown.

Outside the door to his office, Percival stopped, and pulled out his wand. The wards were missing.

Credence grabbed his sleeve, tugging slightly,

“What’s the matter Mister Graves?”

Too distracted to correct him, Percival shook his head,

“I’m not sure, but something dissolved the security on my office.”

He flicked his wand at the door and it swung open to reveal Newt, sitting where he’d left him in his spare chair and Abernathy, standing beside him, looking quite proud.

“Mister Graves, I caught this man breaking into your office.”

Percival shook his head,

“You’re such an idiot Abernathy. I sent him here. He’s here with my permission. What I want to know is how a little twerp like you got into my office uninvited… hmm?”

He caught a movement of Newt’s head out of the corner of his eye, something that normally he might have called a twitch but was most certainly a shake of a ‘no’, and he swiftly moved in front of Credence, blocking him from Abernathy’s line of sight.

“What’s going on?”

*

Credence wasn’t sure why Mister Graves sounded and looked so worried, until the man threw up his wand, and something silver exploded in front of them, slicing a divot into the desk, and Newt actually shouted and jumped sideways still clutching his case.

Credence was clinging to the back of Mister Graves’ jacket, trying to make himself small, and the only thing he could hear were the sounds of what he guessed was the man’s magic colliding with the other one.

He’d been shifty eyed and looked a bit like a rat turned into a human, so Credence hadn’t spoken to him any more than Queenie had, Queenie who was always the epitome of politeness and who introduced them before dragging him to the room where Miss Tina and Mister Graves had been.

“I know what you’ve got there. Did you think I put up with your bullshit because I liked you? Nope. I just knew you were onto something. Those kids. They’ve all got enormous potential. And you just had to go and steal one for yourself.”

Mister Graves sounded as lost as Credence felt.

“What the hell are you talking about Abernathy? Stop this nonsense. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Credence suddenly tugged harder on Mister Graves’ jacket, as he could see his vision starting to go. It was fading to black, like Miss Queenie had said some of his mind was.

But whatever was happening, it wasn’t enough to get the man’s attention.

The next time Credence opened his eyes, he was looking up at the ceiling, and he wasn’t in Mister Graves’ office anymore.

There were whispers, murmurings of people around him, rather like when the black bubble from inside Mister Scamander’s case had called to him.

But they were real.

“Credence? Can you hear me?”

It was Mister Graves.

He was unharmed. Good. It was all that mattered. And Mister Scamander…

Credence tried to turn his head, but everything hurt. His entire body was sore, like after a beating.

“Oh honey no. Don’t try to get up. They’re going to take you to a doctor, er, one of our kind. Well, your kind now.”

“What happened?”

He tried to ask. But the words came out in a jumble, and somewhat backwards.

“It’s okay.”

Queenie’s face blurred until she was just a golden haze, and Credence couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

*

 A month later Percival found himself skipping lunch breaks to leave work earlier, just so he could go visit Credence. He couldn’t actually talk to him, only look at him from behind the glass, but he still stayed until the nurses and healers had to practically push him out the door.

Newt had been incredible. He’d offered to share all of his knowledge and research, once he’d gotten cleared for release from his own room after a week and a half, and surprisingly enough, Tina had been his most common visitor. Percival had run into her several times in the hallway, and tried to avoid eye contact.

She knew what he was there for, so what was there to talk about?

Work was almost boring now, with the International Confederacy in town, and their own investigators taking over Grindelwald’s trial.

The word was that since that first meeting he’d checked on of the Second Salemers, something had been off, and no one had quite noticed.

Who would suspect someone like Abernathy?

Everyone thought much like Percival of him, he was impertinent and mostly annoying. Tina and Queenie both had told him not to be too hard on himself, for even they’d missed it.

He leaned his forehead against the glass, feeling the cold seep into his skin, and he wished it was the weekend already, wished he could finally step inside and make sure everything was okay.

The machines beeping and the healers assuring words were not enough.

“Hey. How are you holding up? I brought these. I know you haven’t eaten all day. Tina was exactly the same when Newt was in here.”

Queenie was a gentle presence at his side, like a miniature sun, and he turned to find her holding out a box, marked Kowalski’s baked goods.

“Oh goodness. He works fast.”

Queenie giggled,

“Newt gave him some solid silver eggshells, and he went back and told that jerk at the bank what for.”

“So the charm wore off then?”

Queenie blinked,

“What’s that?”

Percival cocked a brow at her,

“You oblivated him after he was healed right?”

“Oh I don’t remember. You eat up now. You need your strength. Credence will be woken up on Friday.”

“How do you know that?”

Queenie grinned,

“Call it intuition.”

She left in a cloud of perfume, and Percival was suddenly more than a little nervous. It was one thing to prepare for an inevitability but quite another to know for certain. The healers didn’t have to push him out that night, he left of his own accord, and returned home only to fall into therapeutic cleaning of his apartment, though it hardly needed it.

He wanted to ensure everything was perfect for when Credence came to stay with him, if he wanted. That had been a matter hotly debated between him and Tina and Newt as well.

They’d all presented good arguments for why he’d be better off with Newt, going to England, or staying with the Goldstein’s recovering and being doted on.

Percival had just shook his head at them all and pinned Tina with a stare,

“Whose idea was this in the first place? Hmm? Not to deny that you’ve been very helpful Mister Scamander, I owe you a great debt of gratitude. But I think we all know what’s best.”

The debate was basically over at that point, and Newt finally confessed he couldn’t actually leave right away anyway.

“I’ve got to go to Arizona. There’s a cliff missing a Thunderbird right now.”

Tina and Queenie had become equally distracted at that, while Percival had merely stewed in smugness until it hit him that yes, Credence was going to be staying with him, recovering from a very dangerous and experimental procedure, and likely need lots of care and attention.

None of that was an issue as much as the fact that he found himself worrying more about what the boy thought of him, and if he would even be content with the arrangements.

Eventually he ran out of things to clean, and was forced to scrounge up something for dinner, as whatever Queenie had brought him had been more air than actual bread and cheese.

*

Credence couldn’t feel anything that different when he woke up, but he could swear his vision felt lighter. As if it wouldn’t dissolve to black at any moment, or ever again.

He turned away from the window, out of which he thought he saw a cloud shaped like the bat horse, and he found Mister Graves and Mister Scamander standing somewhat awkwardly in the door to his room.

“Am I in the hospital?”

His voice was a croak, perhaps from lack of use.

Mister Graves nodded, and Mister Scamander stepped closer first.

“How are you feeling Credence?”

He blinked, and licked his lips,

“Well, okay. I’m just wondering how I can pay you back for this. Ma always said doctor’s were expensive and barely above witches.”

Both men exchanged a look and Mister Graves came over to his side, taking a clammy hand in his two warm and larger ones,

“Don’t worry about that. With the research the healers will get from the observation of your stay and the uh, obscurus they extracted, they should frankly be paying you.”

Credence lifted his free hand, and turned it over, stunned to not find any scarring remaining.

“It didn’t hurt.”

Mister Scamander shook his head,

“Nope. Not at all. You were basically unconscious, or in a deep sleep for most of it.”

Credence gasped suddenly,

“You were hurt too. What happened?”

Mister Scamander looked away from him, down towards his shoes,

“Well, that’s rather a long story. Quite boring. I just came along to ensure you were okay. And to let you know, if you want to come see me, you’d be quite welcome. I know James, my thestral, would be delighted to see you again as well. Take good care of him Mister Graves.”

“Percival… please. You know I will. Safe travels Mister Scamander.”

He looked back at Credence, away from Mister Graves just long enough to smile, and then he was going out the door, and vanishing from his sight.

“Mister Graves…”

Credence focused on the man, before realizing with a start he was looking right back at him, and he could feel his cheeks heating.

“Yes my boy?”

“Did I hurt Mister Scamander?”

Mister Graves’ face instantly dissolved into a concerned expression,

“Not at all. He was in more danger from the man I was trying to subdue than you.”

Credence blinked,

“The man? Abernathy?”

Mister Graves sighed, and waved a hand, summoning a chair towards him so he could collapse into it, before answering,

“It wasn’t really him. It was another man using his face. He was in disguise.”

Credence squeezed the hand he could still feel beneath his,

“Who was he?”

Mister Graves pressed his mouth together in a tight line, and Credence could see his jaw set,

“I don’t know how much you heard before, but there was a dark wizard making his way across Europe, and he’d made it to America, we just didn’t know.”

“Oh no. I hope the real Abernathy is all right.”

Mister Graves shook his head,

“Unfortunately, he was not found in time. He didn’t make it.”

“Oh.”

“The wizarding world owes you a debt we can never repay. You helped immensely. You unleashed the obscurus and broke through all of his defenses and shattered the illusion he was creating to maintain his disguise. If Tina and Queenie hadn’t come to check on Newt, to bring him to lunch, I don’t know what would have happened…”

“Was Newt okay?” He tested the man’s first name, and it felt fine, even though Credence had constantly been told never to refer to adults by their first name, it was rude.

But he was an adult too, according to Mister Graves.

“He had some minor injuries. Most of the time he was here was helping guide the healers to properly work on you.”

Mister Graves smiled at that, and Credence couldn’t help returning the gesture.

“So what happens now?”

Mister Graves actually looked away from him, and Credence realized he was staring at his hand, still over his own,

“You will be officially released this afternoon.”

Credence gulped. He had nowhere to go. He couldn’t go home, not with the knowledge that he was… what he was.

“Can I-?”

He broke off the thought before he could fully form it, and bit his tongue.

Mister Graves’ thumb rubbing over the back of his knuckles distracted him, drew him out of his miserable thoughts,

“Can you what?”

He inhaled a shaky breath, and tried again.

Nothing to lose.

Why not?

“Can I stay with you?”

Mister Graves’ smile was so bright it would outshine the sun, Credence decided.

“My boy, I’d be honored.”

*

Percival backed away from Credence slightly as he walked in and took a turn around his apartment. He had stopped midway through pointing down the hall to the guest room and the bathroom and noting how the kitchen could always be visited, even in the middle of the night if he suddenly decided he wanted some hot chocolate, and he thought he saw the boy’s bottom lip quiver.

“What’s wrong?”

Credence’s voice was shaky, and he looked over at Percival like… like he’d hung the moon or something as equally ridiculous.

“It’s too much. More than I could ever imagine. Thank you Mister Graves. Thank you.”

The boy had flung himself into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and he barely registered Credence squeezing his arms around his body, and only just got his own to wrap across the boy’s shoulders in time, lest he think the gesture was unwelcome.

“Of course. You deserve the world Credence. You must know this.”

His other hand he brought to the boy’s head, his own fingers threatening to quake before he drew them through his hair, petting him slightly, like he was some kind of gangly long limbed cat turned human.

He supposed if he had to guess, that would be the boy’s perfect Animagus form, if he were to take one. The thought made him smile, and when Credence pulled back, straightening up and looking at him, he realized the boy was about an inch or so taller.

Time to pull out the wintery boots with the higher heel.

“No one’s ever been as kind to me before as you have.”

Percival sighed,

“Well, you come from a less than kind home. But here, I hope you find it and the whole wizarding world as welcoming as can be. If you ever need anything, just ask. I’m only down the hallway.”

He gave him a small smile, and then walked away, before he did anything stupid like continue to stare at Credence far longer than could be called appropriate.

“Will I get one of those?”

The boy asked, after Percival had started dinner, and found himself frowning at every other line. Why did recipes have to be written in such fine print? Pulling out his reading glasses would just make him feel older, he really didn’t want to have to do that.

“Uh, what’s that?”

He glanced over to where Credence was perched at the dining room table, knees tucked up to his chin, in fuzzy grey socks and wearing a new set of blue plaid pajamas that Queenie had procured for him. She’d actually gone a bit all out, ridiculous in her insistence she buy him plenty of things for while the boy stayed with Percival.

He wasn’t going to argue with her. He’d never win.

“Your wand. Isn’t that how you do magic?”

Percival straightened up from where he’d been hunched over the stove,

“Yes well, you can learn to do some magic without a wand, in case someone steals it, or you don’t feel like getting it from across the room… but of course. We’ll go first thing next week, and find you a wand.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he seemed to hug his legs tighter to himself,

“Will I be any good?”

Percival smiled,

“I think with some training, you’ll probably be very powerful. They only took out the dangerous and parasitical part of the obscurus. You still have a lot of magic inside of you. But now, you’ll be able to control it. No more pesky blackouts.”

Credence let out a sigh, and then nodded, and Percival returned his focus to the cooking, wanting to make a good impression for his guest.

The chicken and potato soup turned out pretty good, but then again, Percival rather suspected anything but gruel and hot water would be like heaven to the boy, at least until he got used to it. Hell, he had almost sung the praises of the hospital food.

Before Percival could even suggest they adjourn to the living room to read a book or even check the news, he saw Credence fight off a yawn and lose and he smiled to himself.

“Tired?”

Credence looked over at him like he’d been caught stealing from the church plate.

“N-no, not really.”

“Come now, it’s all right. The kitchen will quite literally clean itself.”

Percival smirked and then flicked his fingers back to the sink, where the dishes began washing and drying.

Credence’s eyes widened, until another yawn took him by surprise.

“Up we go.”

Percival moved over to help the boy to his feet, and he slipped an arm around his shoulders, letting him lean against his chest, praying he wouldn’t notice how his pulse sped up.

The guest room was sparsely decorated with things Queenie had suspected he’d liked, and half the books on the desk were donated from Tina’s old schoolbooks, and even a couple of his own. He hoped Credence would enjoy reading them.

If he even could.

As he helped the boy down onto the bed, he felt a hand tugging on his sleeve,

“Yes?”

“Dinner was amazing. Thank you.”

The dreamy smile on his face was something far more precious than Percival thought he ought to be allowed to witness.

“You’re very welcome, but I warn you, soup is about the end of my expertise in the kitchen. You might have to teach me some new things.”

Credence shrugged a should lazily and shook his head, nudging against the softness of the pillow,

“I don’t think I know much about that…”

Percival wasn’t quite ready to leave him yet, so he knelt down beside the bed, and let a hand trail over his forehead, pressing back unevenly cut bangs,

“Do you know how to read Credence?”

“Mhm. Just enough. What’s on the pamphlets. Bible verses.”

Okay well that was better than nothing for certain.

“Would you like me to teach you more some time?”

Credence nodded again, and turned over so that Percival’s hand was now pressing against his right cheek, and his dark eyes opened slowly,

“I could read to you.”

Percival smiled,

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

“Goodnight Credence.”

He started to get to his feet and move to dim the lights, only to feel one of the boy’s hand snag at his own,

“Goodnight Mister Graves.”

He squeezed the hand and turned back,

“Please, call me Percival.”

“Okay… goodnight Percival.”

Credence’s eyes fell shut, and his hand loosened over Percival’s, before dropping onto the mattress.

It would be so easy.

He couldn’t resist.

Percival crept back over to him, and leaned down to kiss the boy’s forehead, feeling him shift slightly, and let out a sigh.

That night, safe in his own bed, he wondered if he’d ever slept better, knowing that Credence was finally safe, and free.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyy fluffy ending. i know, no smut. if you want smut, go read Boy Next Door. trust me. its the result of this smutless story.


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